Two of the same
by Inkie Teapot
Summary: AU, Daniel Potter defeated Voldemort, his twin Harry died. Twelve years later Harry Potter, raised by the Dursleys, meets his parents in St Mungo's.
1. Chapter 1

Two of the same

Chapter 1

Harry awoke slowly. His limps were heavy and his mind fuzzy. In a daze he looked at the ceiling through narrowed eyes and breathed deeply, as if to cost the air. Finally he lifted his arms and touched his head. A bandage was wrapped around it, just above his eyes. He thought he should feel pain, but there wasn't any, just the heaviness.

He sat up and looked around the room. Without his glasses it was blurred. However the room was so bare that the few pieces of furniture were easily distinguished. There was the bed he was lying on and a nightstand and a chair beside it. Through the window the evening sun dyed the previously white room a soft orange-red.

It became clear to Harry at once that this was a hospital room. Yet, why was he- No! No, he would _not_ go there. Trying to distract himself, he gingerly stood up and walked to the window. Outside people were walking up and down the street, some hurriedly, some with heavy shopping bags and some pausing to speak with acquaintances. The sight was strangely soothing.

After what happened … the world was still the same and Harry knew that it wouldn't change, whatever happened to him and as long as he was healed, he could go back to his normal life.

In that moment the door creaked and Harry whirled around, surprised. In the doorway stood a woman seemingly frozen with shock. She wore strange lime green robes that clashed with her red hair.

„Is something…" Harry began, but the nurse shook her head and walked further into the room, closing the door behind her.

"No, no, you just reminded me of someone I know", she explained and looked at him in such a way that he thought she wanted to rip his face off.

After a minute she got her act together and asked, trying to be professional: "How do you feel? Are you in any pain?"

"No." He walked back to the bad and sat down on the edge, not wanting to find out, what would happen, if this strange woman decided he wasn't healthy enough to walk around.

She was looking at her wristwatch now and said politely: "Are you hungry? It's time for your medicine and it's easier to swallow with some food."

Suddenly feeling the emptiness of his stomach, Harry nodded.

"I'll get it then. Just wait a moment."

And it really was only a moment. Hardly out of the door had she come in again, this time holding a tray. Either she had left the tray outside or the canteen was next door.

She deposited the tray on his bed, before sitting down in the chair. Harry stared at the tray. He couldn't eat in this position. Awkwardly he lifted his legs onto the bed and pulled the tray closer. Sneaking a look at the nurse from the corner of his eye he was relieved to see her staring idly at the wall. He didn't want to be observed while eating.

Taking the fork in his hand he was about to pierce it through a piece of potato…

"I'd suggest drinking first."

And nearly let it fall. He frowned at the redhead, but she had gone back to staring at the wall. Harry took the cup and shook it lightly. It looked like normal juice. He took a sip and spat it out, shuddering. It tasted _horrible_.

Next to him, the nurse laughed.

"You put the medicine in the food!?", Harry said irritated.

"Not the food, just the juice. The food's there to rid you off the aftertaste." Now that she looked at him amusedly, rather than the focused staring from before, it occurred to him that she was a very pretty and likeable person.

After downing the juice in one go and eating quite a bit of his meal, Harry remembered an intriguing comment.

"You said I looked like someone you know."

The nurse startled. "What?", she said, brought back to reality. "Yes, I meant my son, Daniel, he's twelve … I'm sorry, I didn't introduce myself, did I? I'm Lily Potter." Potter, huh? It was a common name.

"Harry."

He regretted it immediately. Lily went back to staring at him and when Harry tried to eat his food as quickly as possible he nearly choked.

Soon the plate was empty and she picked up the tray, but halfway to the door she stopped and turned back, clearly contemplating something. After a few seconds she finally left.

Could it be? Could she be his mother? The name Potter was common, but her reaction wasn't. While it could be considered normal to stare at someone, who suddenly turned up and bore an uncanny resemblance to one's son, that could not be said after having gotten used to this someone's appearance and going back to staring because he introduced himself as _Harry_.

Clearly, either there was something more personal going on or that woman was just weird.

But, as Harry reminded himself, if she did turn out to be his mother he wouldn't care. She had, after all, left him with the Dursleys.

* * *

That evening, instead of flooing home, Lily changed into Muggle clothes, she kept in her locker for occurrences such as this, and walked around London. She couldn't stop thinking about it. And she'd thought about it for a long time now. Back in Harry's room, she had stared at the wall, hope rising in her and being crushed by her will not to let her hope be crushed again, and uncertainty and evidence ringing with each other, resulting in an endless string of _What ifs?_ and _Could he really be?_

She had promised herself not to think about it. And promptly broken that promise. The thoughts kept sneaking into her mind. More than once Miriam had teased her about her clumsiness and she'd had an easily avoidable argument with Spleen.

But she didn't care. This was _Harry_.

She sighed. She was as calm as she could expect to be. Swiftly turning into a narrow alleyway, she turned up her nose at the smell and checked that no one was looking. Then she pictured her home in front of her eyes, turned on the spot and apparated.

Her feet connected with the gravel road without making any disturbance. Glancing up she saw the familiar building, surrounded by trees and overgrown grass. A small smile grazed her lips, as she walked toward it. Home.

Stopping before the door, she searched in her pockets for the magical key and opened the door.

"I'm home!"

Lily looked through the living room doorway and saw James standing up from an armchair, depositing a book onto it instead, before going to the kitchen. Footsteps behind her told her, that her husband was following.

"Did the fresh air help?", he asked with an raised eyebrow.

"What do you mean?" She undid the buttons on her cloak and folded it over the back of a chair.

"Normally you floo home. You only walk when you're agitated", he explained and pointed to her muggle clothes.

"So", James continued with a somber expression and eyes focused on her. "I guess you met Harry."

Had he known? Had he known and _not told her? _"Please", Lily said acidly, her smile obviously forced. "Explain how you've come to that conclusion."

James was unperturbed by her tome and just said "I was there, Lily. I saw his resemblance to Daniel" like it explained everything. He went to the fridge, upon which surface a photo of two toddlers playing together was stuck. He touched one of the toddler's faces. "But you know what they say. Everyone has at least one doppelganger."

"And Daniel's doppelganger is Harry", Lily countered. She put her hands on her hips and set her face in fierce resolution.

James sighed and stepped back from the fridge, facing her again. "I thought we were over that." He shook his head. "No, were not over it, but I thought we had accepted, that Harry is dead."

Understanding, Lily's expression softened. "He might not be. James, really, what are the odds that another boy with Harry's face and name exists?"

James' head jerked up. "Name?", he repeated.

"I thought you knew." Lily raised an eyebrow, surprised, as well.

"I didn't know. I thought you'd belief him to be Harry", he said exhaustedly and sat down on a chair. Lily could faintly hear him mutter: "His name's Harry."

"I spoke with him", she explained as she sat down on the chair across from him.

"What's his surname?"

"He didn't say."

James was contemplating this news, but Lily already knew what he'd decide. Harry was his son, too, and it really was only the lack of information that had made him decide not to investigate further. Harry was dead, but the hope, that he was alive wasn't. Even if this Harry turned out not to be their Harry and she'd have to suffer from misplaced hope, she knew she wouldn't be able to rest, if she didn't seize this opportunity.

"So how did it go?", James asked. "The conversation."

Her face reddened and groaning she hid it with her hands. "I made a complete fool of myself."

James snorted and grinned. "Oh, do tell."

She lifted her head and glowered. "Spleen suddenly ordered me to go speak to Harry, saying the charms had alerted them, that he'd woken up. He did it like he distributes cleaning duty, giving it to the first he catches taking a break! Since it's an easy task, being the first person a traumatized boy on the verge of an emotional breakdown sees! Not at all worth alerting a mind healer!" She steamed. "Oh, I hate Spleen! He's taking his dislike for me too far. Harry could have seriously suffered from that move. I'm no mind healer. I didn't know what to do at all!"

James smiled comfortingly and patted her forearm. She retracted it. "I'm sure you did all right."

Lily huffed. "It wasn't any different from talking to normal patients. After what happened … I thought he'd be broken."

James frowned. "Maybe he doesn't remember", he offered. "I heard memory loss can occur with traumas."

"It could be. We didn't speak about it." Maybe I should have addressed it?, Lily thought. No, he should see a professional.

James pondered about it. "If he truly doesn't remember, it'd be a terrible blow for the department."

She looked at him, disapproving. "James, how can you!"

"What?"

"Think about the boy, it'd be better for him, if he forgot!"

"Calm down, Lily." He held up his hands. "I'm just seeing the situation objectively." He speculated. "They'll probably send an auror to him soon."

Lily straightened. "You do it."

James looked incredulous. "Why, so I can torment an innocent boy?"

"No, so that you can speak to your maybe-son without being suspicious."

He frowned. "You're talking to the Master of unsuspicious here. I do not need an excus-Oh Merlin!"

"What?!" Lily shot up, upturning her chair and searching the kitchen for any sign of harm.

James grabbed her shoulders, his face captivating her restless eyes. "I just remembered. That boy can't be Harry-he's a muggle!"

* * *

Harry awoke with a scream, sitting up instantly. Panting, he wiped the sweat from his face with his sleeve. On his cheek he stopped and prodded the area with his fingertips. He could still feel the warm blood running down his cheeks and the ache in his limps from the all-encompassing pain.

He looked down onto his lap where his other hand was shaking, clasping the bed covers. Exhaling, he loosened his grip on the sheets and tried to calm down. It was just a nightmare, he repeated over and over in his mind.

The first sunrays of the day were already lighting the room through the curtains. Harry stood up, not bearing to lie down anymore. He looked around the room. It was completely bare. Nothing to entertain yourself with other than sleeping and that was no option.

As he walked out the room, he decided he'd just tell whoever asked that he needed to go to the toilet-it wasn't a lie either. However nobody asked. The employees (Harry extinguished them by their lime green robes) were happy to ignore him and the visitors too focused on each other to notice him. Strange lot, they were, too. If his uncle were here, Harry was sure he'd have gotten a heart attack in the midst of long haired guys wearing dresses and eccentric women with stuffed animals on their hats. Harry rather liked it.

It got weird however, when he descended the stairs and the portraits started talking and moving. Thoroughly creeped out, he tried closing his eyes and pinching himself. It didn't help and after one particularly long pinch he saw a portrait laughing at him from the corner of his eyes. Annoyed, he huffed and resumed walking.

On the landing of the first floor he stopped and looked down over the railing. He couldn't see much of the ground floor, but what he saw was crowded. Deciding to avoid that area, Harry explored the first floor.

"Look out!", someone screamed.

Harry startled and whipped around, his eyes widening at the sight. A blur of gold was flying toward him. Behind that he could faintly make out a person running after it, but not being able to keep up with the fast blur.

He didn't know what to do, so he didn't do anything. As the blur came nearer, at an alarming pace, he realized that was a mistake. The blur were two dozen little golden birds with sharp beaks and an aggressive aura.

Quickly, he threw himself on the ground and covered his head with his hands, just in time to avoid the beaks piercing his body. As the birds flew over him, he heard a metallic clinking sound.

When they had passed over him he sat up and watched to his horror how they turned around in a wide curve, holding onto each other like a swarm of fish, and charged at him again.

"No way!", he cried out and scrambled to his feet. He took one of his slippers and threw it at the birds, before turning around and running. His slipper had disrupted the swarm, stretching it in the length.

Harry just turned a corner and saw, half fascinated and half panicked, the beak of the first bird gliding through the wall, as if it were butter. They were just a foot behind him!

In a flash of inspiration, he grabbed the lid of a dust bin and held it like a shield, facing the birds. But it wasn't going to make any difference. The lid was too small and their beaks too sharp, they could go through _wall_ for heaven's sake!

Harry stared at the lethal creatures with dread and thought that he really didn't want to die, when he had just survived a near-death-situation.

Suddenly his arms were dragged to the ground and he fell to his knees, not able to hold the weight. The dust bin lid had enlarged and was now bigger than him. Feeling that it was going to fall down on him, he reached out and held it up with his palms.

Not a second later a golden beak pierced through the lid, just missing his fingers. Harry yelled and removed his hands, while the other birds punctured the lid in quick succession.

Without the support of his hands, the lid fell and would have crushed Harry, if he hadn't pushed himself backward in time.

Harry stared at the lid in disbelief, not even checking for further birds. How had it gotten so large?

A man ran around the corner and stopped abruptly. He gaped, bent over and panted heavily, all the while staring at the enormous lid lying on the floor with two dozen beaks stuck in it and the birds belonging to them struggling to free themselves.

Finally the man straightened and said, still a little out of breathe: "Accidental magic, huh? I forgot how impressive it is."

Magic? He must have misheard.

The man walked around the lid and gave Harry a hand. "Augustus Pye", he introduced himself.

"Harry." He took the hand and was immediately lifted onto his feet.

"Thanks for catching them", Pye said and pointed to the birds. "I'll treat you to something at the hospital café. Just … don't talk about this?"

Harry smiled. Employees wanting to look good he could deal with. "I'll take that treat and you show me where the toilets are."

Pye grinned. "Sure thing."

Someone cleared their throat.

Pye's grin fell. Slowly he turned, a big, fake smile on his face. "Ah, Lily, nice to see you!"

Skeptically she raised an eyebrow. "What happened?", she asked, straight to the point, hands on her hips and displaying all the authority of a displeased mother.

"It really wasn't my fault", Pye exclaimed."I removed those birds from a patient and locked them into a cage. How should I have known that they'd pick the lock? I followed them, but they're freaking fast, so I lost sight of them for a moment. When I got here I found this." He pointed to the lid with birds.

Straight to the point. His whole explanation was as short as possible. He didn't even mention his warning, which would surely have earned him extra points. That's the type of woman Lily was. She didn't allow beating around the bush.

Lily stared at the lid with an unreadable expression, then turned to Harry and raised her eyebrow.

He felt like a schoolboy listing his misdeeds under her stare. "After Pye warned me", he said and figured he could give him those points. "I ran away, but they chased me. I used that dust bin lid as a shield, though it was too small to make any difference, but there was nothing else I could use. Then the lid suddenly grew and the birds got stuck in it."

Lily's eyes simultaneously widened and softened it sympathy. She looked at him like she wanted to tell him something. In the end she said to Pye: "I'll overlook this, but make sure to remove the lid before someone sees and lock the birds away safely."

Pye nodded enthusiastically, kneeled before the lid and examined it. "You're going to be a great wizard", he said, looking Harry in the eyes. "I never did this impressive magic."

He heard it clearly this time. Magic. "Magic doesn't exist."

Pye frowned. "Of course it does."

"No, it doesn't."

Pye stood up. "You … look at the lid! You can't seriously belief that's possible without magic."

"But magic doesn't exist." Every kid knew that. The adults said it so often.

Pye was still frowning. "Did you hit your head?", he asked, looking at the bandage, now concerned.

Before Harry could answer, Lily interfered. "Pye", she admonished him.

"Harry, I'll show you the toilettes." She put a hand on his shoulder and guided him to the stairs. While turning the corner, he saw the bird from before was also stuck in the wall.

"You should research your staff better. No one will want to be treated by a freak."

Lily's hand tightened on his shoulder. "He's no freak", she said firmly.

He slapped her hand away and stepped back. She was just like him. She believed in magic, too.

"No." Lily grasped his shoulders with her hands and looked him in the eyes. "Harry, I know magic seems pretty ridiculous, but … please, hear me out. There is a secret society of wizards and witches. They went into hiding after the witch huntings. Since then they've made it their utmost priority to remain secret. With magic it's an easy task. Logically, that would be possible, right?"

Harry nodded, his face blank. He'd hear her out, just to placate her, but he wouldn't belief her.

"Right now you're in the middle of this society. This is St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. Only wizards and witches can get here. Pye is a wizard, I'm a witch and you're magical, too. The lid-your magic did that to protect you. Have you seen the portraits? The talking and moving ones? They're real. Magic's real."

She let go of his shoulders and looked hopefully at him. He didn't say anything, just stared at the ground.

"If you want to, I can show you some more magic", Lily offered.

"No." He looked up and continued walking. The witch fell into step next to him. "Let me think about it."

Lily not only brought him to the toilettes, but also the baths, where he was to shower. Before that, she removed his bandages. He had a scar above his right ear. It was straight and nearly horizontal, turning slightly upward to the back of his head. An inch of the scar showed on his forehead. Lily called it "curse-scar" with the most peculiar expression.

It turned out he had bandages in other places, too, most notably, his torso and legs. Removing his bandages involved a rather embarrassing stripping down in front of Lily. While he didn't care about women yet, he was aware he was fast becoming a teenager.

The communal shower was empty and a promise from Lily made sure that it remained so. During the shower he stared at his body, as he had already done, when his bandages were removed. His wounds should not have healed so well, there were no traces of them whatsoever beside the scar on his head. It was impossible. If you didn't belief in magic.

His mind had been changed long before that point. He knew that the lid enlargening was magic. He had been there, no tricks were involved. However he had been told for years that magic didn't exist and there had never been a reason to belief otherwise. Now there was and Harry found himself willing to give this society a chance. It couldn't be worse than the Dursleys. And honestly, who didn't want to be able to wield magic?

But as Harry looked into the mirror over the sink and saw his new scar, he knew there was another reason, too.

* * *

_**Dark Mark sighted at Muggle Torture**_

_After eleven years the Dark Mark has been sighted again in Great Whinging, Surrey. When the aurors arrived, the perpetrators were already gone, but what they saw left them in shock. Ten muggles lay dead, their bodies mutilated and tortured, in an abandoned building. The eleventh muggle, a child of twelve years, survived and was admitted to St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. _

_A ministry speaker says: "We are simultaneously working on finding out the identities of the muggles and sending their bodies to their families and on finding the culprits. Such an act of muggle racism and violence cannot go unpunished. We will make sure that the victims receive justice in court."_

_On the matter of the Dark Mark James Potter, auror and father to the Boy-who-lived, claims: "We do not know if the culprits were Death Eaters (followers of You-know-who) or if one or multiple of them had connections to Death Eaters (only Death Eaters know how to summon the Dark Mark). It is obvious however that they want their actions to be associated to You-know-who …_


	2. Chapter 2

Two of the same

Chapter 2:

Lily walked into the staff room, irritated. Her friend, Miriam Strout, sat at a nearby table with a mug of coffee and a newspaper. When she saw Lily's expression she laid down the newspaper and asked: "What happened?"

Lily took a seat across from her and reached to the back of her head, undoing her ponytail. She sighed and ran her hand through her hair. "I just removed Harry's bandages and it reminded me of what he's been through. He behaves so normal, it's easy to forget."

Miriam looked down at the newspaper. "They only mention him in passing. " She frowned. "I expect they'll devote an entire article to him when he's discharged. About how amazing wizards are and that crap." She scoffed.

Lily leaned forward and strained to read the headline upside-down. _Dark Mark sighted at muggle torture_

"That newspaper's two days old."

Miriam glowered. "Well, excuse me for being a bit behind."

Lily smiled. She wanted the culprits to be caught. She hadn't been there, when they'd brought Harry in, but with the amount of bandages covering his skin, she knew his wounds to have been excessive. How anyone could do that to a child she couldn't begin to fathom.

"Did you get over your shock?", Miriam asked.

Lily frowned.

"The last time you spoke with Harry, you came to me all embarrassed", her friend elaborated, eyes glinting with amusement.

She blushed. "Oh, don't remind me!"

"Because you stared at him so much and forgot the muggle rules, namely to wait at least 5 minutes before bringing them their lunch, not summon it in the hallway and return to the room barely a second later. And then of course you stared at him some more and _watched him eat_."

Lily was now deep red. "There was no reason to rub it in!", she said, as she rolled up the newspaper and playfully aimed it at Miriam's head.

She caught it with her hand and chuckled. "Sorry, but this is a rare opportunity, Miss Perfect."

"You mean Mrs Perfect, I hope?", a familiar voice joked. Lily was surprised to see James here. Only Hospital staff was allowed in the room. Then she remembered the conversation from last night and figured he was on duty, to interrogate Harry.

"How long have you been here?", she asked, mortified.

"I just came in." He sat down and turned to Miriam. "So, what dirt do you have on my darling wife?"

Miriam raised her eyebrow, as if she couldn't believe he didn't already know the answer. "Secret", she said sweetly.

James pouted.

As she watched him, Lily was awed by Harry's resemblance to him. Of course Daniel resembled his father, too, but it was different with Harry. She knew Daniel, she'd raised him, been by his side for more than a decade. On the other hand, Harry was a stranger. Everything about him was new.

"I've got something important to tell you."

James straightened at her earnest tone and looked at her, searching for a hint about what she was going to say.

"Harry is a wizard."

Her husband just stared at her. She couldn't pinpoint the emotions on his face. Together, they blended into an unreadable expression.

"Seriously?"

Lily nodded. "I saw him do accidental magic. No, I didn't actually see it, but I saw the result and there's no doubt it was him."

Miriam, who had been silent, while Lily relayed this bit of hope to James, asked, incredulous: "What would he need to do accidental magic in a hospital for?"

"Apparently to protect himself from man-eating birds", Lily said dryly. She knew what'd come next.

"That's my son!"

* * *

Harry sat on his bed, leaning against the headboard. Beside him lay a stack of parchment, a quill and an ink pot. He had asked Lily for some games and books to distract himself, but St Mungo' s apparently didn't have any, since most patients only stayed a few hours at most and those who had to spend multiple days here asked their family to bring them things. Obviously Harry couldn't ask his relatives, seeing as he didn't know how to contact them. Not that he'd have tried, if he did know. The Dursleys wouldn't give a damn if he died of boredom. On the contrary, they'd probably have a celebration.

Lily had however been so nice to give him the parchment and quill, saying he begin practicing. Not sure what to think about the medieval methods Harry had opted for folding paper planes. It was quite the task actually, since the heavy parchment pulled the planes easily down.

He had just folded a wing at a new angle, hoping that would help it stay up, as the door opened. Alarmed, Harry looked up.

A man stepped in. He wore the same robes most witches and wizards seemed to prefer. His dark hair was a complete disarray, like Harry's. On his face was an easy smile, not importunate but friendly.

Behind him Lily followed. She looked worried.

"I'm James Potter", the man introduced himself and gave him a hand.

Harry tilted his head to the side and turned to Lily. "He's my husband", she explained.

He shook the hand and answered with a succinct "Harry."

James frowned. "Only Harry? What about your surname?" He pulled the only chair in the room closer to the bed and sat down. Lily settled against a wall.

Harry smiled. "I like my first name."

The man laughed. It was the same kind of laugh his teachers used, when they thought he lied, but played along with him.

James leaned forward in his chair. "I'm a policeman", he said, as if revealing a surprising secret.

Harry just blinked.

James sighed dramatically and ran a hand through his hair. "You're no fun", he muttered.

At a glare from Lily, he went back to business. "I need your assistance. Do you know why?"

Why? He had a guess and dearly hoped he was wrong. He didn't want to think about _it_.

"No."

"What is the last thing you can remember before waking up in this room?" His suspicions were correct then. That man was interrogating him.

"I remember I've got to go to the toilet." Harry stood up.

"I'll wait here."

Glaring, Harry didn't move, but for his fist clenching and crushing the plane. "I'm not talking."

"And I'm not forcing you. But you should know that that my superior will send someone else and they won't be as nice as me."

"I don't care. Get out!", Harry growled and pointed to the door.

James looked hurt. "You could save others from the same fate as yours. Who knows what the culprits are doing now."

"That's the job of the police! You go out and do it!" He gestured to the door again.

James shook his head. "We've already tried everything we can think of. What we need is more information."

And it doesn't matter if I'm hurt, as long as they get their information. They're using me. Everyone's always using me.

Furious, Harry threw the plane in James face. "Fuck you!", he screamed. "You're not going to guilt-ride me!"

For a moment James looked like he might hit him, but he just breathed in deeply and closed his eyes, trying to hold onto his self-control. Harry didn't wait for him to open his eyes again, he immediately charged for the door.

However arms wrapped around his chest and restrained me. Looking over his shoulder he saw Lily's red hair. She had buried her face in his shoulder and pressed his back firmly against her chest.

"Please, don't go." These words were all she needed to melt his resolve.

Harry calmed in her embrace and loathed himself for it.

He didn't know if they remained like that for seconds or minutes. At some point Lily's arms loosened and she lifted her head, stepping back.

His back was cold without her chest to warm it. He wondered if that was what it felt like to be hugged by his mother.

Harry was lost. He didn't know what to do or say and he really didn't want to look at the others, didn't want to show them his weakness.

"Harry", James spoke tentatively. "Sooner or later you'll have to speak about it. There's no need for a tantrum."

_Was_ he throwing a tantrum? Was not wanting to relive that time in the day as well as the night immature? He just wanted to forget. Why couldn't his wish be fulfilled for once? Only this time?

Why not? Why was life so unfair? Why did all the terrible things keep happening to him? Why did that woman's touch make him so weak? He was getting sentimental again.

He had to be strong. Be strong or they'll crush you. Survive. He was going to survive this trauma. He was going to survive it remarkably. Because that's what he did. He escaped bullies and made the best out of his life.

What was one more nightmare? Afterwards he could just go back to suppressing his memories, making Paper planes.

Harry walked to the window, careful to avoid looking at Lily and James. His hands grasped the edge of the window sill.

"I don't know anything that'll help you."

"Tell me anyway", James said.

Harry looked down at the street and passersby but didn't see them. He was back on the ground, lying on his side, his cheek pressed against the dirty floor and blood filling his mouth. "I was walking home from school, when someone suddenly took my arm and before I knew it there was this … weird feeling and I was in a room. There were people lying on the ground and people standing above them. Those standing wore black robes and had their hoods drawn, so I couldn't see their faces. I tried to flee, but the one who took me there was stronger. His face was covered by a hood, too. I don't remember them calling each other something. At some point I passed out and woke up here."

He tried to be unemotional and forced his surfacing memories back. Only mentioning the gist helped.

He half turned back toward the room, still not looking at either of them and smiled. "See? I told you I didn't know anything worth telling."

"That's not true. You've helped us greatly", James disagreed, but Harry could hear the undertone of disappointment.

When James had left, Lily turned to him. "Harry", she began, concerned.

"Go."

She left.

* * *

James sat in his office and looked at a photograph. It showed the face and upper chest of a boy. He was covered in blood and dirt, yet there was an almost peaceful expression on his face. He looked dead.

James rubbed his eyes. He kept seeing Harry, in the hospital room, folding paper planes, while blood dripped from his chin onto the white bed covers. The image was taunting him. Harry was admirable. Others would have had a breakdown by now.

Oh, he knew, the boy was suppressing thoughts, but who wasn't? He had shown he could deal with it, when forced to confront them. He should probably still see a mind healer, but James was sure regular sessions would never happen.

Mind healers were different from muggle psychologists. Wizards only went to them, if there was a real need. That's why Harry hadn't had a session yet, despite the trauma he suffered. He was coping and he was coping well.

Though Lily would make sure he at least spoke to them once.

Looking at the clock, James put the photo in the upper drawer and grabbed a bag from the floor. He walked to the front door, locked it behind him and proceeded to the anti-apparition wards. A few feet outside of them he apparated to St. Mungo's.

He went past the reception desk, already knowing Harry's room number. On the way, a few employees greeted him and reminded him that it was still a good hour until Lily's break.

Finally in front of the door, he hesitated. After yesterday, Harry would surely not want to see him. On the other hand he really wanted to get along with him and talking was necessary for that.

Summoning his inner Gryffindor he opened the door. The first thing that surprised him was that the window was wide open. The second was that Harry hadn't turned around. The boy had placed the chair before the window and put his forearms on the window sill, resting his chin on them. The breeze gently swayed his hair.

James smiled. It was the complete opposite from the photo he'd looked at earlier.

"Good Morning."

Harry lifted his head and blinked at him owlishly. "Don't you have work?"

The Auror wondered, if it was a reminder of the comment from yesterday, that he should go catch criminals instead of interrogating him. He opted to answer it earnestly. "It's my free day."

He lifted the arm with the bag and swayed it around, seeing Harry's eyes follow it. "I've got something for you", he said and placed the bag on the bed.

Harry looked from the bag to his face, his gaze remaining there for a few seconds before he stood up.

He took the book out first. It was called "Introduction into Magical Britain" and brand new, as James had only bought it this morning.

"I thought, it would be useful", he explained, trying to look casual.

"Thank you." Harry ran his fingers over the cover a last time and set it aside, taking the last item out of the bag. "Tautus's traditional Board Games" was a simple board game collection that muggleborns could understand easily. It also came with a rather handy one player modus. James's father had given it to him, when he was a little and ill. It had made staying inside much more enjoyable, he thought, as he fondly took in the frayed cardboard box corners.

"And what's the game for?"

James just looked at him. "I know how boring hospitals are. Wanna play?"

They set up the game on the nightstand, Harry sitting cross legged on the bed and James on the chair, after having fetched it from the window. He taught the boy how to light up the individual game boards (they were all on one board, the lines of the activated game light up to better distinguish them from the others) and to direct the pawns with instructions.

In a stroke of luck, Harry had moved his pawn forward six fields and James was staring at the board, thinking up ways to gain up on him.

"I know why you're doing this."

James looked up. "Because I like games?"

Harry shook his head, looking very mature. "You think I'm your son."

He wouldn't be surprised if he'd gaped in that moment, he liked to think he hadn't. "What makes you say that?"

Harry took a spare pawn from the box and inspected it. It wriggled in his fingers. "Lily, your wife … the first time we met she behaved oddly, kept staring at me and said I resembled her son. And there's the fact that you visited yesterday. I don't know how things are regulated here, but wouldn't they rather send someone who isn't going to be distracted? Plus you came just after I did magic."

It wasn't enough evidence to support his theory. He was right, yes, but if James were in his position he wouldn't have guessed that. Harry was keeping quiet about something.

"And what to do you think?"

Harry didn't answer instantly. He moved his fingers, so that the pawn dangled in the air, the only thing keeping it from falling Harry's thumb and forefinger. It threatened him with a fist. Harry cocked his head, as he observed it, a few locks of hair falling into his eyes. With a smirk playing around his lips, he looked positively devilish. It struck James in that moment, that even though Daniel had the same face, he wouldn't have been able to imitate that look.

"My last name's Potter."

* * *

"Harry…"

Harry looked down at the pawn. He couldn't stand looking at James' face. He'd thought he'd enjoy it, snubbing the man, but he didn't. After one look at the hopeful expression he already felt bad.

"I know you'll want to live with your current family, but can we at least visit? We can help you prepare for Hogwarts."

He swallowed and tried to shoo the guilty thoughts away. Lily had been nice to him the last few days and James had brought him gifts and played with him. But where had they been before that?

"I don't get it", Harry said, squeezing the pawn in his fist. "Why are you acting like you actually want me?"

"Of course we want you!"

"No, you don't!" He looked up, livid. How dare he lie? "You're only interested in me because I have magic!"

"How did you get that idea?", James asked, confused.

"You only showed up after your wife saw me doing magic." He wasn't feeling guilty anymore. If James pretended ignorance then he didn't deserve his sympathy. That he'd actually believed that hopeful look …

James grimaced and ran a hand through his hair. "Well, I didn't know you were alive before then."

"Alive?", Harry repeated, incredulous. "What, did you want me to die?"

"NO! I didn't mean it like that! I could never … You're my son and I love you."

Harry snorted. "I'm not stupid, you know? People don't abandon loved ones."

James' head shot up. "Abandon? Didn't you realize …? We never abandoned you." He wrung his hands in his lap, but kept his eyes steadily focused on Harry's. "Someone faked your death. They left a body behind that looked exactly like you … We were devastated-"

"Liar."

James winced as though Harry had dealt him a physical blow.

"You really think I'm stupid, don't you? Like I'm going to believe that _story_", Harry said, as he looked down at James.

The auror's face was set. "Then I'll just have to show you." He stood up and walked swiftly around the bed. Surprised, Harry shied away and hit the wall with his back. He flinched, as James came nearer and closed his eyes reflexively.

He felt a hand closing around his wrist, firm but not hurting. Opening his eyes, he saw James' back and felt a pull. He started walking.

James led him through the halls and down the familiar staircase. The healers seemed surprised to see them together, but didn't stop them. Was it the authority of aurors? Harry had half a mind to scream at them, why they weren't helping him. And why wasn't he helping himself? He knew he couldn't get away, but normally he'd at least try. Was he that desperate to know the truth? His past?

In his cupboard he'd always wondered. Who were his parents? Why had they left him there? The Dursleys claimed they didn't want him. Harry had ignored this and imagined wild tales. In the beginning they involved his parents leaving him there to protect him. As Harry became older and grimmer, he thought his parents were dead and that was the reason they hadn't retrieved him.

Yet, in the back of his mind, there was always the explanation the Dursleys had given him. Lily and James Potter. His parents. Good-for-nothings. Drunks. Unemployed. Abandoned him. That was everything his relatives ever told him. He'd ignored it, not wanting to believe it.

Then he'd met his parents. They weren't dead. The Dursleys had been right. Only not. His parents were employed and from what he'd seen they weren't drunks or good-for-nothings either. What was going on? What was the truth?

Harry and James descended the last flight of stairs and found themselves in the atrium. Harry only had a moment to take the strange sight in, before there was an unsettling sensation. He couldn't breathe and he couldn't move. And then it was over and Harry fell to his knees. James had let his wrist go and the fingers of his hands dug into the earth.

Harry breathed heavily, his eyes wide open. His memories were trying to take over. After a while he calmed and sat up. As he lifted his hands, a small figure hurried out from under one of them. The pawn glared at him and escaped.

"What…?" James asked. Harry stood up, swaying slightly. The man stretched out a hand to steady him, but stopped at Harry's glare. "I know it's an unpleasant feeling for first timers, but I've never seen someone react like that."

Harry huffed. "Then I guess you haven't kidnapped someone before."

"Oh … Sorry, I forgot."

Harry looked around. They were at a cemetery. "What are we doing here?"

James looked around, too, searching for something. Soon he had found it and walked toward it, gesturing for Harry to follow.

James stopped in front of a grave. When Harry looked at it, his breath caught.

Harry James Potter

31 July 1980 – 31 October 1981

It was his own grave.

Beside him, James looked at the engraving with an odd look and explained quietly: "Twelve years ago there was a Dark Wizard. He wanted to take control of the world and kill or enslave the muggles and muggleborns, people without magic or without magical parents. We fought him, but he had many followers. It was a war. At one point we were informed that the Dark Wizard was after us. Lily and I went into hiding and we had you and Daniel. There is a spell, the Fidelius, that allowed us safety. The spell makes it so a secret is hidden inside a person, the Secret Keeper, and can only be distributed by that person willingly. We asked our best friend to be the Secret Keeper, but he advised us to take another of our friends, who was … easily overlooked. No one would have guessed we had chosen him. So Peter held the secret, which in our case was the place where we were hiding. But at Halloween it all went wrong. Lily and I were away, at a meeting of a resistance group, when the Dark Wizard broke into our house. He tried to kill Daniel, but the spell somehow rebounded and the Dark Wizard was destroyed instead. Since then Daniel's famous. He defeated a powerful Dark Lord when he was still a baby and he is the only person to ever survive the Killing Curse. The rebounding of the curse however caused a part of the roof to collapse. It collapsed above your bed and crushed you, or what we now know something to have been transfigured to look like you. There was no reason to doubt your death! You can't imagine how we felt. While everyone else celebrated the downfall of the Dark Wizard, Lily and I had lost our son and friend!"

Harry was still. Could it be? It sounded like fiction, something you'd write in a fantasy novel. On the other hand magic was an element of novels, too. And there was the grave. Why would James lie? Harry couldn't find a reason.

"What happened to Peter?", he asked.

"Apparently, the Dark Wizard tortured him until he told him the secret and then killed him. A few days after Halloween, we found one of Peter's fingers in a dungeon of the Wizard's followers."

Harry winced. A finger?

James looked at him, with no particular expression, just looked at him. Harry knew what he wanted to know and to play for time, he said: "You never said the Wizard's name."

"Well, that's the thing, no one calls him by his name. They're too terrified. So it's either You-know-who or He-who-must-not-be-named."

Harry snorted. James smiled. "Daniel's the Boy-who-lived."

This time Harry laughed out loud. James joined in. After a while they turned to go and with a last look at the grave James took out his wand. Unconsciously Harry took a step back, his earlier experiences with wands not good ones. But James just conjured a floral wreath in front of the grave. His grave, Harry thought. As he took the flowers and James' expression in he felt strange. The man had really loved Harry.

With a smile, James eventually turned to him and held a hand out. Harry hesitated for a moment and took it.

When he could see again, they were in the atrium of St Mungo's. He walked toward the stairs, but turned around, when he noticed that James wasn't following him.

Harry considered. "I believe you", he said and then "I live at 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging."


End file.
